


One Bottle

by mirqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Christmas and Madam Rosmerta observes joy everywhere after Voldemort’s recent defeat. At one dark table in the corner of The Three Broomsticks, it seems that joy has fled. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Bottle

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Harry Potter_. It belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. etc.

A/N:Just another excuse of mine to make an alternate ending for Severus Snape, the Harmony ship, and Minerva being Harry’s mother figure of some sort. Oh, and ADMM. :D

> **One Bottle**

Hogsmeade was positively bustling with activity, as was usual during the Christmas season. One thing, however, was very different about this particular holiday season. Voldemort, the constant fear in most every wizard’s and witch’s heart (and some muggles’, too), had been defeated for good.

Even after the boy-who-lived survived the killing curse as a baby, there were still many who felt the dark lord was likely to return in the future. Ten years of mostly peace and quiet had been broken once Harry Potter returned to the wizarding world to attend Hogwarts. The incontrovertible truth of Voldemort’s return, at the Ministry of Magic a few years ago, turned the magical world into a constant battle zone. Everyone prayed for an end to all the destruction and death. Harry Potter’s seventeenth birthday was the beginning of that end.

For months the war continued, neither side gaining an advantage. The Death Eaters would strike; one of the Order of the Phoenix would be captured or killed. The Order of the Phoenix would strike; one of the Death Eaters would be captured or killed. It never seemed that the war was doing anything, but causing death.

At last, there was something that felt very final about the battle which began at Hogwarts front gates a week ago. Fighting raged on at the school and in the streets of Hogsmeade, until at last the boy-who-lived prevailed the previous evening. It was iconic that Harry Potter, the people’s great hero, stood under the Gryffindor banner as he repelled the killing curse back unto the dark lord, from whom the curse was originally cast.

The snow came earlier than expected, the losses were high, few were uninjured, and everyone was exhausted beyond anything they had ever felt. Yet, with all the fatigue and the injuries and the sadness, there was not a single person who did not celebrate with all of their heart as the fireworks exploded in the night sky and music blasted from every nook and cranny. Some had the wizarding wireless, some had orchestras, some used record players and phonographs. The Weird Sisters came to play at Hogwarts in the Great Hall. Celestina Warbeck stood in the Leaky Cauldron and sang more upbeat songs than she ever had before. Most people just used their voices and anything that was at hand, making whatever music came to mind. This Christmas season no one would refuse to celebrate.

Amongst all of the celebrations, people of course came to The Three Broomsticks to sit with their friends. By this point there were no tables left, but still people came in. People were willing to stand if it meant they could share a smile and a handshake with their fellow wizard. Arielle Rosmerta couldn’t seem to stop smiling as she watched customers crowd into the establishment. Joy and unity were finally taking hold amongst magical folks. The proprietress was unable to stop a chuckle as she watched one specific group of seven people slowly approaching her business. Relief spread through her to know that they had survived the war.

Two tall, thin, older wizards both looked upon their lady companions with clear blue eyes. One of the men sported half-moon spectacles and a set of vibrant, royal blue robes with silver embroidery that contrasted very well with his long, white hair and beard. The other man was not dressed quite so lavishly in his plain, navy robes and much shorter gray beard and hair. On the gray-haired wizard’s arm was a brightly smiling witch in simple, lavender robes; her graying blonde hair pulled into a loose bun. The white-haired wizard was equally matched for style and contrast by the slender lady on his arm. The woman’s jet black hair flowed freely down her back for once and a small smile lit up her typically stern façade. Her deep green eyes, shining up at her escort, were offset by emerald robes that beheld a red, poinsettia-shaped pin in honor of the holiday.

The last three in the band of wizards were younger than the rest, but no less included in their number. Short, shockingly pink hair adorned the youngest of them and her bright spring-green eyes and robes and pink scarf did nothing to deter one’s attention from her person. The young witch spoke and gestured with wild animation from between her two walking companions. Beside her, a laughing witch with formerly spiked, silver hair had finally allowed her true chocolate-colored tresses to show through, hanging to her shoulders. The dark locks matched her tanned complexion and amber eyes much nicer and looked exceptional against her scarlet and cream robes. The green-bedecked young woman held hands with the wizard in simple burgundy robes and black scarf on her right. His shaggy, golden-brown hair was liberally flecked with gray and hung slightly in his hazel eyes, but never obscured the contentment and adoration that shone there for the loudly dressed witch.

Yes, Arielle was very glad that this particular group would be gracing her with their presence. The laughter and happiness that they brought was another reminder of all that had been gained through this war. In short, they were a symbol of joy. Turning away from the window and back to her current flood of customers, Arielle’s smile faded and she sighed as she noticed the form in the only dark corner of the building. How she wished someone could bring  _him_  joy. The unknown wizard blended into the shadows too well. He must have been hurt by the darkness for so long that he couldn’t seem to find anything else now, even after Voldemort was gone for good.

Now that brought to mind the darling young man who had faced the evil wizard down at Hogwarts. Even without a scar, the messy black hair was easily recognizable in a corner at the opposite side of the room, head on the shoulder of his bushy-haired girlfriend. Arielle knew that they also needed joy right about now. Their red-headed best friend was murdered by Voldemort’s own hand not even two days ago. In fact, it seemed that was one of the biggest things that cemented Harry’s decision to call out the dark lord for the final fight. And if Arielle remembered right, when Harry had asked about some of the people from the group she had earlier watched heading this way, no one had known yet whether or not they lived.

It was funny how things worked out, though. The group arrived at The Three Broomsticks as last, happily chatting amongst themselves as they walked in the front door of the crowded establishment. The wizard in burgundy suddenly caught sight of the couple at corner table where Rosmerta’s gaze had just lingered. He made a beeline for the two, people parting for him easily as water. At the table, Hermione Granger’s gaze rose to find the other wizard approaching. Eyes wide, the young lady shook her boyfriend gently and whispered urgently in his ear. Bottle green eyes swept up and locked on amber orbs. Abruptly the boy-who-live-twice was up and being crushed into a fierce hug by the older man.

"Remus," Harry muttered the name in awed surprise, tears in his eyes, "Remus."

The two wizards embraced so tightly that Arielle was afraid they were going to choke each other, but they didn’t notice for their joy. A flash of pink passed by and Arielle had to laugh as an ecstatic Nymphadora Tonks also pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug. Hermione was greeted with equal fervor and the four shared a group embrace, just glad to be alive.

From the doorway, the witch in emerald robes made her way disbelievingly toward the pair, arms reaching out subconsciously to the young hero. If Harry had been happy to see his father’s best friend, it was nothing compared to the reception he gave Minerva McGonagall.

"Gram!" Harry shouted in joy, green eyes brighter than ever. The black-haired seventeen-year-old rushed at the elder witch, lifting her off of her feet and swinging her around in earnest. Minerva laughed and swatted the young man, scolding him to put her down. He did so with a lopsided grin and the woman kissed his forehead lovingly, squeezing him tightly. They were so happy it brought tears to Arielle’s eyes. Everyone in the place must have begun laughing, crying, and cheering for the happy reunions they had witnessed. Rosmerta could have sworn even Aberforth Dumbledore’s eyes watered a bit.

As she tucked a strand of golden-blonde hair behind her ear Arielle was surprisingly drawn, form the corner of her eye, to the same shadowed figure in the opposite corner. No one seemed to notice, except for herself, when Rolanda Hooch approached him cautiously.

Turning fully, Arielle watched as the petite witch sat hesitantly next to the partially obscured wizard with a worried glance at the half-empty bottle of firewhisky. She touched his shoulder with a gentle hand. From the darkness, a pale hand reached out to grasp the brunette’s smaller one. Rolanda squeezed the long fingers tightly, as if to never let go. The man turned to face the small witch, bringing his other hand up to caress her face reverently. Surprise flitted through Arielle when the woman’s amber eyes closed and she leaned into the hand, comfortable with this intimate gesture. Who was the wizard in the shadows? Arielle was in school at the same time as Rolanda. She knew almost everyone that ever dated the brooms instructor. Rolanda always dated bright, friendly, outgoing fellows until she began working at Hogwarts, even going so far as to date a wizard who was obsessed with muggle cars. This dark being did not seem her usual style.

That was swiftly answered once the wizard sprang forward suddenly, crushing the dark-haired woman in a hard kiss and wrapping his long arms tightly about her slight frame. It was as if shadow merged with sunlight. Rosmerta felt dizzy just from seeing the passion in that one kiss. At last he pulled away slowly and set his chin atop her brown tresses, just holding her close.

Arielle looked away, for once ashamed to have watched her customers’ antics. It was such a personal moment; one not to be intruded on. The proprietress did not watch them for the rest of the evening.

When the day ended and Rosmerta cleared the tables that night, she came across more full glasses and bottles than she ever had. So many people merely came in to spend time with each other that day, rather than to get sloshed.

In the darkest corner, however, there was an empty bottle of firewhisky. Next to that sat several galleons and an empty glass with lipstick on the rim. Looking at the arrangement for several long moments, Arielle summoned a new firewhisky from her stock and placed the contents in the empty bottle. After packaging the refilled bottle, Arielle looked at the label with a small, knowing smile.

_Severus Snape_

_Potions Master_

_Hogwarts_

It was no small wonder he hadn’t fit with Rolanda’s “usual” style. Arielle now had an excellent idea of why Rolanda stopped dating once she began working at the school. Shaking her head slightly, Arielle had to add a little note.

_This is one bottle I think you’ll appreciate._

* * *

 


End file.
